Spoiled Cuisine
by Admiral Godunov
Summary: Sex without pain is like food without taste...


The noise of the handcuffs tightening around her wrists sent a shiver down her spine. Every metallic click of the lock ringing in her ears like the bells of Hell. Her captor leaned over her slight frame, cold hands framing her cheeks as warm breath tickled at her ear. Words were whispered, but the meaning was lost from the feel of them slithering into her ears like an oiled serpent and wrapping around her brain.

It was always like this. Every other day, she'd be sitting, drawing, pretending to exist even less than she did already to stay out of everyone's way, and thenthe older woman would appear. Her face was always twisted into a perverse glare as she looked down upon the shivering form frozen in the chair.

It would always end up with her handcuffed or otherwise tied to something immovable while the older female took what she wanted and left her shuddering and crying on the floor. This time would be no different, the only variation on this occurrence being an object which her feet could be tied to, and so she was rent completely immobile on the stiff bed.

The first cut was liquid fire, carving across the paths of several other barely healed cuts, opening them to bleed freely again. She whimpered and struggled, tightening the chain of the handcuffs and grinding the cold steel against already raw flesh. The frigid hand suddenly slammed her back down and for a moment the girl was glad for the softness of the bed beneath her rather than a cold, hard floor.

Hands and knives were once again roaming her tender, pale, damaged flesh, carving paths out like she was a bovine being marked for the meat plant. Perhaps she was, though her mind was too ablaze with the sensations to figure out a proper definition for the metaphor.

A hissing breath followed next as something wet and velvety traced over one of the deeper cuts, leaving a stinging trail in its wake. She bit her lip against it, even as her body shook at the feeling. A perverse smile alighted the older female's face, a light of some sort in the depths of the electric blue eyes dancing about in amusement. The motions were repeated, with similar reactions though this time the tongue was accompanied by a pair of freezing fingers violently invading what was quite possibly the only place on the girl's body that was blazing hot. She whimpered again, toes curling, back raising slightly off the bed.

The pain was fading away, the fire merging into a different sort of inferno. It wasn't long before the white-hot sensation cleansed her of all others, and she shuddered silently on the bed.

Moments later she was free, delicately rubbing her bruised and bloody wrists, saline dripping from the nose of her down-turned face.

"...Why?" The question was the barest of whispers, but it reached the intended ears all the same.

"Sex without pain is like food without taste," the older blonde quoted of her 'mentor', walking out of the room.

The younger girl blinked up in confusion from her curled position, but the other woman was already gone.

Nearly a week had passed, and no more visits were made between the two females. It was impossible at this point. Larxene was dead. The boy whose memory she'd been working so hard to re-chain had hit a stalling point. She just didn't feel like continuing with her grim work anymore.

Marluxia had begun to try and get closer to the young girl, move in on the territory abandoned by his fellow traitor. But he found her unresponsive, almost as if she'd lost something when Larxene had died.

Finally, frustrated, angry, and in the first stages of the delusional madness that would eventually claim him, Marluxia had thrown her down and attempted to take what he was after by a show of force.

She remained as impassive and listless as usual. He tried desperately, everything he had ever known about female anatomy and psyche to get some sort of a response from her, yet nothing worked. It was just as he was about to give up trying to make her enjoy his actions when she moved, her eyes suddenly darting down to meet his.

"It won't work..." she whispered to him, even as her fingers pushed into the soft pink mane of his hair. She began to sit up, and he gave ground to the haunting look in her crystal blue eyes. "Hurt me..."

Marluxia backed away so quickly, it looked as though he'd been struck physically. The girl's face twisted into a sideways, plastic smile, a ghastly echo of the one usually found present on the late number twelve's countenance. "Please..."

The man began to stand up quickly, eyes wide as he watched her advance on him. She moved slowly, fluidly, in the likeness of something far removed from human. He gave ground until finally he was forced to turn and flee, those empty blue eyes following him out. That look, that broken look of twisted masochism and something akin to the countenance a sociopathic serial killer might wear would haunt Marluxia until his demise, and aid his madness.

As she watched him flee the room like something in his life depended on it, Naminé looked down to her raw, scarred wrists, eyes filling with tears for a reason she never could understand. The words were coming back to haunt her.

_Sex without pain... _

Those same scarred hands clutched at her face, clawing into the flesh until she could feel the warm moisture of blood seeping between her fingers and trickling down.

_Life without pain... _

She collapsed to her knees, biting her lip against the image of Larxene kneeling naked over her, the blue and yellow knife slowly drawing a crimson line down her flawless skin, the first incision that would mark her as the sadist's pet. It had hurt so badly at the time, and yet, by the end, she had to stop herself from begging for more.

_... it's like food without taste... _

Naminé threw her head back and laughed until her stomach hurt and she was somehow sure it would make her sick. "Now where's the fun in that?"

And then she grinned.

--

A/N: Alright, so this was my attempt at a psychotic Naminé/Larxene like I love to read so much. Drop me a line on how it went. I don't think it's psychotic enough... but I'll have to make due.

Also... I don't own any of the characters, that's SE and Disney's job.


End file.
